


so fine i can’t control my brain

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Beach Sex, Felix Gets Sucked and Fucked, Fluff and Smut, Honeymoon, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sylvain and Felix take a seaside honeymoon.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	so fine i can’t control my brain

For the third time this morning, Felix takes his breath away. 

All Sylvain has to do is glance over at his husband—his _ husband—_ and he forgets how to breathe. 

“Eloping was a great idea,” Sylvain says, lying in the sand, hand clasped with Felix’s. “I’m so glad I thought of it.”

“I guess it could be worse,” Felix says mildly. He’s sprawled out on his back, one arm shielding his face from the pale sunbeams that illuminate his skin. His scars, proof that he lives and breathes, glow iridescent. Some days, Sylvain can’t believe they both made it through the war.

Most days, he can’t believe his luck didn’t end there. 

But this is real—exchanging private vows the day before, spending the night with foreheads and chests pressed flush, rocking together languid and sweet as they whispered things they never dared to say in broad daylight. No matter how many times Sylvain pinches himself, his husband is still by his side.

And right now, he’s wearing the tiniest linen shorts Sylvain has ever seen. They barely count as clothing, thin enough to make out the patch of dark hair between Felix’s legs and the shape of his soft cock just beneath. 

He may as well be completely naked. 

Sylvain can get him there. Rolling onto his side, he slides a hand over Felix’s stomach, muscles twitching beneath his touch. Felix grips Sylvain’s other hand tighter, pressing on his knuckles. A soft sound escapes his lips as Sylvain slides one wandering hand up his abdomen to his sternum, pushing on his chest in a light massage. Felix’s nipples quickly perk, sensitive to even the lightest pressure, and Sylvain smiles. Gently, he drags his fingertips in a spiral around one hard peak, slowing as he approaches the center. 

“Sylvain,” Felix breathes out, and Sylvain stalls just above his nipple, close enough to exchange body heat but not touching. 

“What is it, Felix?” Sylvain asks as he hovers. 

It comes out harsh: “Touch me.” 

“Touch you where?” Sylvain has patience in spades. After all, he waited years for Felix to be ready for him—with some detours, yes, but Sylvain had urges Felix hadn’t been interested in fulfilling at the time. 

Sylvain had no idea what he was missing until he got his first taste of Felix.

“You know what I—” Felix cuts himself off and instead grinds out, “Touch my nipples.”

It sounds utterly filthy coming from his mouth and Sylvain grins. “With pleasure.”

He swirls the pad of his middle finger over the very tip of Felix’s nipple in a tiny, focused circle. Felix gasps and writhes in the sand, and Sylvain releases his hand to mimick the motion on the other side. Sand scratches Sylvain’s belly, but it’s a satisfying sort of itch—even better when Felix lets out a whimper. 

“Harder,” Felix urges, and Sylvain rubs with all his fingers, brushing from side to side until Felix’s breaths run ragged and Sylvain’s cock is filling with blood. 

It doesn’t take much to get Felix out of his head anymore, so Sylvain isn’t all that surprised Felix issues a sharp command: “Pinch them.” 

Sylvain doesn’t really need direction and they both know it, but Sylvain loves to hear it, and he gathers the hardened peaks between his thumbs and forefingers. Pleasured hisses pass through Felix’s teeth as Sylvain rolls his nipples back and forth, squeezing just the way Felix likes. Just knowing what turns Felix on pulls at something deep inside Sylvain, deeper than the friction between his dick and Felix’s thigh. If Sylvain really set his mind to it, he could probably get off just from watching Felix’s face—the way his eyes flutter shut, how his lips part, and those tiny crinkles around his nose—but the thin fabric separating their bodies has to go. Soon.

Like a cat, Felix arches his back into the sand, shoulders curling down to push his chest higher. Sylvain seizes the moment to replace one hand with his mouth. 

“Bite me,” Felix utters, and Sylvain does, nipping the sensitive flesh, each moan and cry from Felix pushing Sylvain’s hips faster. Felix tastes of the ocean from their morning swim, salty on Sylvain’s tongue. His cock throbs, desperate for relief, but he’s persistent; Felix comes first, literally and figuratively. 

Sylvain alterates biting, sucking, pinching, until Felix shoves his own shorts down. His cock shines with precome, and he’s asking for an asscrack full of sand, but Felix doesn’t seem to care. Shameless, he writhes on the ground, grabbing for Sylvain’s cock through his pants. 

“Not yet.” Sylvain arches out of his reach and says, “Let me—”

But in releasing Felix’s nipple to talk, he’s essentially freed Felix, and Sylvain finds himself on his back. On all fours, Felix hovers above him, cock dangling so the tip brushes Sylvain’s over his pants. Anything else Sylvain might try to say gets silenced by Felix’s tongue on his. 

It’s brief but rough, and then Felix moves down his body, kissing a wet trail to his hips and removing his pants off in a swift yank.

Sylvain would run out of breath before he finished listing Felix’s virtues, but patience is not among them.

On his knees, Felix devotes himself to Sylvain’s cock, licking around the base to get it nice and wet. The sight, the feel of his tongue, his lips, has Sylvain’s dick pulsing, pushing out beads of precome that roll down his shaft. Felix laps them up like he hasn’t eaten in days.

Then, his mouth envelops Sylvain’s cock and it’s like looking directly at the sun at high noon—Sylvain’s vision goes white, even though he’s nowhere close to orgasm. It’s just _that_ good, Felix sucking his dick first thing in the morning. For a moment, Sylvain forgets his mission, spreading his legs so far his knees fall uselessly into the sand as Felix’s lips slides up and down his cock. Sylvain lets his head fall back, too, hair full of sand because nothing matters except the wet heat of Felix’s mouth. Marriage is all about compromise, and he can let Felix take care of him, too. Plus, he can tug at Felix’s hair to show his appreciation—harder when it’s really good.

But Felix is _too_ good; he works his tongue while he sucks, and every time the tip of Sylvain’s dick hits the back of Felix’s throat, Sylvain drifts closer to the edge. He props his feet on Felix’s shoulders and pushes—Felix is strong but he can’t fight that kind of leverage, and a trail of spit connects his mouth to Sylvain’s dick when he pops off. Felix wipes it on the back of his hand, eyes locked on Sylvain’s. 

“You ready to fuck me now?” Felix asks, and how can Sylvain say anything but _yes?_

Thanking his past self for having the foresight to bring the oil outside, he grabs the vial, but before he can slick his fingers, Felix grabs his wrist. 

“Just push in,” Felix begs. “Want to feel your cock.”

He’s going to feel it no matter what, but Sylvain understands. They had a lot of sex last night, but Felix won’t be loose. Bodies don’t work that way. And yet Sylvain trusts him enough to try. Felix likes a little pain with his pleasure, and he’s more than used to taking Sylvain’s cock.

But Sylvain uses extra oil anyway. It’s too much, stroking himself while Felix settles on his back. Sylvain has to take deep breaths and focus on Felix’s face. One day they’ll go back to positions where they can’t gaze into each other’s eyes, but not today, not the day after their wedding.

Sylvain edges forward, careful not to let his slick cock touch the beach. 

“Any sand in your hole?” he asks, half-joking, as he lines up. It wouldn’t stop him, but it might not feel great. 

“Bite me,” Felix snaps, rhetorical this time. He lunges forward, ramming into the head of Sylvain’s cock. Sylvain rolls himself around Felix’s rim, not to push in but to prepare him a little. All it gets him is a terse, “Quit teasing and fuck me.” 

“As you wish,” Sylvain says, and he steadies himself.

With a deep breath, he pushes in.

Fuck, Felix is  _ tight,  _ tighter than the first time they had sex years ago—Sylvain had spent almost an hour opening him up then. Now Felix’s muscles choke Sylvain’s cock, and Sylvain watches his eyes, his brow, for any sign of pain. 

He finds none beyond a tiny wince that melts into an airy sigh. Felix angles his hips to take Sylvain deeper, and it’s so tight Sylvain can barely control himself, but Felix is all pleasure, jaw going slack once Sylvain is fully buried inside him.

The pressure around his cock threatens to tip him over at any second, but Sylvain keeps his cool.  _ For Felix,  _ he tells himself. Felix doesn’t judge; there’ve been times when one of them popped off in under a minute and times when they’d needed hours and breaks for water. 

Today, Sylvain aims for somewhere in the middle.  


Knees digging into the sand, he slides out almost completely, pauses to compose himself, and slams back in all the way. 

The moan it pulls from Felix is guttural, the kind of noise he never makes back home, and Sylvain does it again and again, varying his angle to change the Felix’s pitch. It’s easier now, to thrust in and out without feeling like he’s going to explode, and Sylvain sets a rhythm, one Felix quickly matches.

The sand burns beneath his legs and it must be worse on Felix’s back, but Felix looks too cock-drunk to care, almost drooling as he rolls his head from one side to the other in ecstasy. Sunbeams warm Sylvain’s back, and it’s like his shadow is fucking Felix, too, blocking the light from beating witness to his gorgeous face. It’s for Sylvain alone, just like the way Felix’s cock bobs between them, slapping their stomachs as they rock together.

Goddess, his cock looks like a meal, dripping with precome and hard as it can get. An idea possesses Sylvain, one that distracts him from the heat and pressure on his cock, and he asks Felix, “Can I suck you off?”

Felix bolts upright. “Can you?!” 

The doubt in his voice lights a fire and Sylvain grabs Felix’s feet, folding him back on himself for a better angle. His cock is right there—all Sylvain has to do is curl in on himself and—

Success is sweet and salty. It’s a trade-off; he can’t penetrate Felix as deeply like this, but tasting his cock and feeling it pulse in his mouth makes it worth it, and just like that, Sylvain is teetering on the edge again.

Felix cries out over and over, Sylvain’s name standing out amid unintelligible sounds, and Sylvain wishes he could see Felix’s face. He can picture it: mouth gaping and probably drooling as Sylvain pumps his hole and sucks the head of his cock in tandem. Soon, Felix stops meeting his thrusts, reduced to moaning and merely taking the pleasure he deserves. It’s everything Sylvain ever wanted for him.

But no matter how hard he tries to focus on the sand cutting into his knees, Sylvain can feel himself losing grip. All his muscle pulls tight, and not just because his body wasn’t meant to bend like this. Desperately, he tries to push deeper, both in his mouth and in Felix’s ass, contorting himself as much as he possibly can.

It pays off. Felix shouts a late warning as hot come fills Sylvain’s mouth. It stings his throat as he tries to swallow it, but some of it drips out, down his chin and onto Felix’s body. Broken moans spur Sylvain on, and he manages a few more fitful thrusts before he snaps, pleasure twisting him from the inside out as he fills Felix with come. Sylvain can barely keep his dick inside, and the hot mess seeps out between them as he attempts to keep pumping Felix’s ass. Felix’s cock gives a weak throb and Sylvain releases it, watching it sag between them, completely spent.

When Sylvain bends his neck back, it’s almost as good as his orgasm. He’s going to be stiff for days, but the sky is clear blue above him and Felix is utterly fucked out and even more beautiful below. Sylvain pulls his cock out, too, watching his own come drip out as he lowers Felix’s feet to the sand. 

Felix hasn’t managed to close his mouth yet, let alone speak, so Sylvain just watches him. His heart catches and so does his breath (again) because there’s just no way that Felix is really his husband. Sylvain’s an ass; he doesn’t deserve this life, and yet he has it. 

That’s worth a few muscle cramps.

He wipes Felix and then himself with his discarded pants before tossing them aside. There’s no point in getting dressed—the beach is theirs (well, Dimitri’s) for as long as they want it. 

Felix finally moves, sitting up enough to rub the back of Sylvain’s neck. “You are a glutton for punishment.”

“Lower,” Sylvain grunts. When Felix complies, Sylvain adds, “I’m a glutton for you.”

It’s a compliment, and Felix takes it like he always does: by turning up his nose and letting ot a little  _ hmph. _ “Next time, we’re doing it in a bed, and I’m doing all the work.” 

They just fucked and that already sounds like paradise. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” Sylvain says dreamily. 

Felix’s haughty look sours and he rises to his feet, towering above Sylvain in all his naked glory. “Eat my ass,” he says with all the formality it merits. “And wash all the sand out while you’re at it.”

“Oh, I will,” Sylvain promises. Felix holds out a hand and Sylvain takes it, letting Felix pull him up. With a whoop, Sylvain makes a break for the ocean and Felix laughs as he follows close behind. 

**Author's Note:**

> been a while since i wrote some pwp, and i’m always looking for an excuse to make these two fuck in a weird position.
> 
> title comes from island in the sun by weezer because it’s summer here.
> 
> whatever the weather, i hope you’re having a great day, and i hope this bit of fluffy smut made it a little better.


End file.
